


No One Wants to Die

by potok



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album), My Chemical Romance
Genre: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys, F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-26 02:55:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6220771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/potok/pseuds/potok
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Sunshine" is on the run from a dangerous crowd that rules the underground world of Battery City. Out in the zone, she comes across the Fabulous Killjoys and an adventure ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Better Pray to God

She could feel her chest collapsing on her, yet she didn't stop running. The consequences were well known if she did stop. They would find her and take her back. Back to the abuse. Back to the pills. Back to a world of crime. 

She wasn't going back. They'd have to take her back in a body bag if they tried. 

Her silver hair glistened in the moonlight as it bounced all around her. She whipped her head around, trying to get a better look behind her. She could hear their shouts in the distance. 

"Roxana!" 

"Roxana, baby!" 

"Where are you, baby doll?" 

And in a foul, hissing sound that echoed into the emptiness that was the desert, "Roxana! When I find you, you better pray to God I don't kill you." 

_I don't believe in God_ -she quickly thought to herself. As she turned back around, her foot caught a rock, and she crashed into the ground below. Her bare knees skidded, burning. Tiny pebbles dug into the palms of her hands. She was back on her feet in no time. A new source of energy fueled her veins as she picked up the speed. 

There was nothing out here except for dry shrub, cacti, and very few boulders spread out. The dirt bared imprints of tire tracks. Her footprints were the only human ones to be found. She hadn't seen another animal in years but she knew the other prints in the dirt belonged to something other than man and his machinery. 

All she could hear now was the silence of the desert followed by the muffled sound of their shouts. The headlights from their vehicles didn't reach this far; the moonlight was the only source of light. Energy slid through her grasp. Her sprint melted into a brisk walk once she could no longer hear them. She just needed to catch her breath. Either there was enough distance between her and them or they'd given up; but, she was no foolish enough to believe the latter. 

Once her breathing evened out, she was back into a full sprint. Her legs went numb. She prepared for them to give out below her any moment now. She shut her eyelids briefly, breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth. A howl bounced off the mountains in the distance. Her eyes darted around, looking for the source but saw nothing. It felt like she had been running for hours now, yet she knew it wasn't possible. She slipped out of Battery City just after midnight when they had all left or gone to sleep. She waited a few moments for them to fall asleep and forget all about her before she took off. She hadn't anticipated an alarm to be secured to the back door or the code to change. She only had seconds before the alarm went off, alerting all to her betrayal. 

Here she was, in the moonlight, barely in any clothes, knees scraped up, and tear stained cheeks. There was no plan past **get out**. Plan B and Plan C did not exist. Her eyes never saw a map before. She didn't know until now what lied past the borders of Battery City. Were there other cities? Would they be similar or different than the one she came to know? Did _they_ have friends in these other cities? So far, all she could see was the wasteland and the mountains. Perhaps an utopia lied just on other side of those mountains. There would be trees and a lake with a waterfall. People would smile because they wanted to and they wouldn't be crooked smiles. 

She could only hope for a brighter future.


	2. Only a Matter of Time

Hypnagogia consumed her. She drifted in the outskirts of sleep. Her eyes shut tight as her mind dreamt of distant places. It wasn’t until Dr. Death Defying’s voice over the radio broke through the silence that she realized it was time to get up. 

“Look alive, Sunshine.” 

The noise tore her away from sleep as she jolted straight up in the air. The voice was foreign, one she did not recognize. It came from the small radio on the coffee table in front of her. Her heart raced, prompting her to push her body off the rigid couch. The events of the previous night flooded her consciousness. She ran all night long until she reached the twilight zone. That was when she stumbled upon the old farmhouse, abandoned for sometime. 

She picked up the small radio as the DJ continued to give reports, but she didn’t pay any attention. Turning it off, she placed it back down on the table. Her eyes glanced around what appeared to be the living room. There wasn’t much left of it. She walked about the room, her eyes scanning for anything useful. A broken television slumped on its side with a hole cracked through the screen. The couch she slept on stood adjacent to the television. She glided into the kitchen; the archway connected the two rooms together. 

The previous owners left close to nothing behind. Rotten food clung to dusty china. A few cans of food dated back years ago. Anything salvageable, she placed on the coffee table next to the radio. At one point, she found a granola bar. She ate it before moving upstairs and into the first bedroom. 

The room belonged to a girl. A vanity table pushed against the wall. Drawers stuck out as if someone ransacked the place before her. The closet doors were made out of cracked mirrors. Through the jagged lines, she caught sight of her disheveled appearance since leaving Battery City. Dirt stained her black pencil dress; the hem tattered and torn. Her amber eyes traveled up to her dusty hair. One of her gauntly hand reached up and into her nest of curls, twirling them around. Her hair was everything when it came to her image at the club; _Starlight Roxy,_ they called her. 

She peeled her eyes away and opened the closet. In minutes, she threw together an outfit consisting of distressed overalls and a white shirt stained with grease. It was the best she saw, and perhaps the only pieces of clothing that fit her. She tied a light gray jacket around her waist. She would need it during the nights. Once her outfit came together, she poked her head in the window, and pulled back the white sheer curtain. 

Nothing but desert wasteland past the horizon. She figured it would only be a matter of time before they too, discovered this farmhouse. With a new sense of urgency, she headed into the bathroom. She snatched everything in sight, rushing the items downstairs. On her second trip, she discovered a straight razor in the cabinet. Pulling it open, she held the blade to her hair. With each movement of the blade, her hair spiraled down until it fell to the floor. What remained was a choppy mess; her hair hugged the sides of her face. The sharp corners of her jaw visible. She hardly recognized herself. 

A smile crept across her face for the first time since coming off the BL/ind pills. If she couldn’t recognize herself, there was no way they’d be able to. She had to get moving again if she wanted to stay out of their grasp. So far, she stood alive on borrowed time. 

Swiftly, she pushed everything on the coffee table into a purple backpack, from the cans of food to the remains of a first aid kit. A car pulled up, the engine killed just as she placed the backpack over her shoulders. Her heart skipped a beat; weight lodged in her throat. She stopped breathing, waiting to hear _their_ voices. 

“I’m telling you, there won’t be any dracs hauled up in this dump,” spoke one of strange voices. She couldn’t place the voice, but she didn’t dismiss it either. She ducked behind the couch, her head directly under the window. She heard their feet shuffle in the dirt. _There was more than one of them._


End file.
